Refining Paul’s Theology

The following is an AI generated essay. However, the ideas influencing the essay are my own. To save time I will often use AI to compress my ideas into essay form, which I can then refer to later. In my opinion that is one of the ways to correctly use AI. And this blog is as good a place as any to post it.

Paul, Israel, Adam, and the Nations

A Second Temple Jewish Logic of Election, Atonement, and New Creation

Introduction

The apostle Paul is often portrayed as the architect of a new, universal religion that abandoned Israel’s particular story in favor of a generalized theology of salvation. Historically, this portrayal is misleading. Paul understood himself not as departing from Israel’s scriptures, but as re-reading them under the pressure of a single, destabilizing event: the resurrection of Jesus.

This essay argues that Paul’s theology is best understood as a carefully balanced synthesis of three narrative layers already present in Second Temple Judaism:

Creation (Adam and humanity)
Covenant (Israel and Torah)
Eschatology (Messiah and resurrection)

Paul’s inclusion of Gentiles does not bypass Israel, nor does it flatten Jewish categories into abstraction. Instead, it follows a coherent internal logic in which Israel remains central, Adam explains humanity’s universal plight, and Jesus stands at the intersection of both stories.

1. Temple Judaism and the Limits of Atonement

In the First and Second Temple periods, Israelites did not believe their sacrifices directly atoned for the sins of the nations. Temple sacrifice was:

Covenantal (for Israel)
Geographically and cultically located (land, sanctuary, priesthood)
Purificatory, especially for Israel’s sin and the sanctuary polluted by it

Gentiles could offer sacrifices, and the Temple was seen as the cosmic center sustaining order for the whole world, but this benefit was indirect. The nations were not cleansed of sin simply because Israel offered sacrifice.

This distinction is crucial. Later Christian claims of universal atonement represent a genuine theological shift, not a straightforward continuation of Temple belief.

2. Paul’s Scriptural Justification: Not Innovation, but Re-reading

Paul knew his claims were radical. He therefore grounded them explicitly in Israel’s scriptures.

Abraham before Torah

Paul emphasizes that Abraham was declared righteous before circumcision and before the Law (Genesis 15:6). This allowed Paul to argue that:

Covenant faithfulness could precede Torah
Gentile inclusion was not an afterthought, but anticipated from the beginning

Deuteronomy’s Curse Logic

Paul reads Deuteronomy’s warnings seriously. Israel’s failure under Torah places her under covenant curse (exile). Jesus’ crucifixion—“hanging on a tree”—forces a re-reading of Deuteronomy 21:23. For Paul:

The Messiah bears the curse on behalf of Israel
The Law is not evil; sin exploits it
The curse must be lifted before Abraham’s blessing can flow outward

Resurrection as the Turning Point

Paul’s theology does not pivot on Jesus’ death alone, but on resurrection. Resurrection signals:

The beginning of the age to come
The defeat of death
The vindication of Jesus as Messiah

Without resurrection, Paul explicitly says his gospel collapses.

3. Why Gentiles Needed Justification

Gentiles were not under the Mosaic Law. So why, according to Paul, did they need salvation?

The Adamic Problem (Romans 5)

Paul’s answer is Adam.

Sin and death enter the world through Adam
Death reigns over all humanity before the Law
The Law intensifies sin but does not create it

This allows Paul to distinguish:

Israel’s problem: covenantal failure under Torah
Humanity’s problem: enslavement to sin and death through Adam

Gentiles are condemned not as Torah-breakers, but as creatures who have misused creation and fallen under the power of death.

4. Adam and Israel: Parallel Stories

Second Temple Jews already recognized parallels between Adam and Israel:

Adam	Israel
Placed in Eden	Placed in the land
Given a command	Given Torah
Warned of death	Warned of exile
Exiled eastward	Exiled among nations

Paul does not reduce Adam to Israel, nor Israel to Adam. Instead:

Adam is the prototype
Israel is the recapitulation
Christ is the resolution of both

Jesus succeeds where both Adam and Israel fail—not by abandoning Israel’s story, but by embodying it faithfully.

5. Two Problems, One Messiah

Paul’s theology can be summarized as addressing two distinct curses:

The curse of the Law (Israel’s covenantal failure)
The curse of Adam (humanity’s enslavement to death)

Jesus’ death and resurrection deal with both, but not in the same way.

As Israel’s Messiah, Jesus bears the Law’s curse
As representative human, Jesus undoes Adam’s reign of death

The order matters: Adam is resolved through Israel’s Messiah.

6. Paul’s Chiasmic Logic of Election

Paul’s theology of election can be expressed as a dynamic narrowing and widening:

Out of the world God chose Israel
…Out of Israel God chose a remnant
……Out of the remnant God brought forth the Messiah
……In the Messiah God formed a faithful remnant
…Through this remnant God remains faithful to Israel
In Israel God brings blessing to the world

This structure preserves:

Israel’s priority
Gentile inclusion
The Messiah as the hinge of history
Election as vocation, not favoritism

Paul explicitly rejects the idea that the remnant replaces Israel. Instead, the remnant is the means by which God remains faithful to Israel, and Israel is the means by which God blesses the nations.

7. Where Later Christianity Breaks with Paul

Paul’s logic often breaks down in later Christianity due to simplification:

Adam Absorbs Everything

Adam becomes the sole explanatory category, while Israel’s covenantal role fades. This flattens Paul’s careful distinction between creation-failure and covenant-failure.

The Law Becomes the Villain

Torah is reinterpreted as legalism rather than gift. This distorts Paul’s claim that the Law is “holy and good.”

Resurrection Loses Centrality

Atonement becomes focused almost entirely on the cross as payment for guilt, rather than resurrection as the defeat of death and the beginning of new creation.

Israel Is Explained Away

Romans 9–11 is sidelined. The church becomes the endpoint rather than the participant in an unfinished story.

These shifts were historically understandable—especially in a Gentile-majority, post-Temple world—but they are not faithful to Paul’s own architecture.

Conclusion

Paul did not abandon Israel, mythologize Adam away, or invent a new religion detached from Jewish scripture. He was a Second Temple Jew who believed that God had acted decisively within Israel’s story to resolve a problem that reached back to Adam and outward to the nations.

For Paul:

Israel remains chosen
Adam explains universal need
Christ stands at the center
Resurrection signals new creation
History is still unfolding

Gentile inclusion is not a detour from Israel’s vocation—it is the goal toward which that vocation always pointed.

Understanding Paul this way does not require agreeing with him. But it does require taking him seriously on his own terms.

***

From Elephantine to Galatia: Understanding Diaspora Judaism and Paul’s Mission

The history of Jewish communities outside Jerusalem reveals a rich diversity of religious practice long before Torah law became universally binding. One of the clearest examples is the Jewish community at Elephantine, a military colony in southern Egypt during the 5th century BCE. Studying Elephantine not only illuminates early diaspora Judaism but also helps us understand the audiences that Paul encountered on his missionary journeys centuries later.

1. The Elephantine Community

Elephantine was a Judahite military colony, stationed on Egypt’s southern frontier before the Persian conquest (c. 525 BCE). Its members were likely Judean soldiers or mercenaries who migrated to Egypt before the major Deuteronomic reforms of the late 7th century BCE. Consequently, their religious practice reflects a pre-exilic, ritual-focused Yahwism:

They had their own temple devoted to YHWH, where priests oversaw sacrifices.
Their daily life and legal documents show partial adherence to Torah traditions, but not full Torah law enforcement.
They interacted with local Egyptians and other peoples, suggesting a degree of cultural flexibility and syncretism.
Notably, their petitions to the Jerusalem priesthood for temple support did not receive clear approval, showing the limits of central authority at the time.

In short, Elephantine Jews were religiously Jewish but socially flexible, practicing a form of Judaism that was ritual-centered rather than text-centered.

2. Why Elephantine Was Eventually Forgotten

By the 2nd century BCE, Judaism had begun a process of centralization and textualization that made communities like Elephantine historically obsolete:

Centralization of worship in Jerusalem made autonomous temples theologically problematic.
Torah law became the definitive marker of Jewish identity, replacing older ritual customs.
Diaspora communities like Elephantine lacked scribal and institutional power, meaning their traditions were not preserved.
As Jerusalem-centered Judaism solidified, communities outside its influence were quietly ignored or absorbed, leading Elephantine to fade from memory.

Elephantine, therefore, provides a snapshot of Judaism before Torah law became normative, illustrating how Jewish identity and practice evolved over centuries.

3. The Emergence of Normative Torah

The transformation from Elephantine-style Judaism to Torah-centered Judaism was largely complete by the 2nd century BCE, driven by historical pressures:

Hellenistic Rule and Seleucid Oppression: Greek culture and political control threatened Jewish religious practices, culminating in Antiochus IV’s desecration of the Jerusalem Temple.
Priestly Corruption and Internal Crisis: Disputes over legitimate leadership and proper observance highlighted the need for a standardized legal framework.
The Maccabean Revolt (167–160 BCE) established Hasmonean rule, making Torah observance state-enforced, not optional.
Diaspora Pressures: Torah law became a marker of identity, distinguishing Jews from surrounding Gentiles.

The result: Torah became binding and normative, defining Jewish identity for the first time in a widespread, enforceable way.

4. Diaspora Jews in Paul’s Time

By the 1st century CE, diaspora Jewish communities still exhibited considerable diversity in Torah observance and cultural assimilation:

Elephantine-type Jews: Highly ritual-centered, partially Torah-observant, integrated into local culture.
Hellenized diaspora Jews (“Greeks” in the NT sense): Some Torah knowledge, varying observance, Greek names and customs, partially assimilated.
Jerusalem-centered Jews: Fully Torah-observant, resistant to Hellenistic influence, centralized around Temple and priesthood.
Gentiles: Non-Jews with no obligation under Torah, often converts to Judaism via proselytism.

This spectrum helps us understand Paul’s ministry: many Jews outside Jerusalem were culturally and religiously flexible, making them receptive to his message of faith in Christ over strict law observance.

5. Paul and the Galatian Audience

In Galatians 3:13, Paul writes:

“Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us…”

Here, he addresses an audience that includes diaspora Jews and Gentile converts who were under pressure from “Judaizers” to adopt Torah practices like circumcision. These Jews:

Likely resembled Elephantine-type or Hellenized diaspora Jews, partially observant but culturally integrated.
Faced choices between ritual identity and faith in Christ.
Needed reassurance that salvation did not require full Torah compliance, particularly circumcision, the visible marker of law.

Paul’s argument is historically consistent: he appeals to the flexible, diaspora identity that existed in Jewish communities long before Torah law was universally enforced.

6. Conclusion

The Elephantine community shows us that early Jewish diaspora life was diverse and adaptable. Ritual practice, local temple worship, and flexible law observance were the norm outside Jerusalem. Over centuries, historical pressures—imperial rule, Hellenization, and the Hasmonean consolidation—made Torah law binding and central to Jewish identity. By Paul’s time, many diaspora Jews still embodied the Elephantine-type flexibility, explaining why his gospel could resonate with Jews and Gentiles who were devout but not fully Torah-bound.

Understanding this continuum—from Elephantine to Galatia—illuminates both the historical development of Judaism and the social context of Paul’s missionary work, highlighting how faith and law interacted in a changing world.

***

The Church Fathers and the Gift of Tongues

We see the gift of tongues practiced in the New Testament. In the book of Acts, the gift is associated with the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Paul also talks about the gift, most notably in his letter to the Corinthian church.

Tongues is a mysterious gift, and it can be difficult to determine its purpose. Personally, I see it as a reversal of Babel. God divided mankind at Babel through language, and then God drew mankind to Himself at Pentecost. The gift seemed to be the ability for one to speak in a real language (of which was spoken in the Roman empire) without having to first study that language. This allowed the gospel to spread out quickly across language barriers in the first critical years of the Church.

To see what came of the gift in the post-apostolic generations of the early Church we can look to the Church Fathers.

Irenaeus (c. 130–202 AD)

As Bishop of Lyons and a disciple of Polycarp (who knew the Apostle John), Irenaeus is one of the earliest post-apostolic writers to mention tongues. In his work Against Heresies (Book 5, Chapter 6), he describes it as a ongoing gift in his time: “We do also hear many brethren in the Church, who possess prophetic gifts, and who through the Spirit speak all kinds of languages, and bring to light for the general benefit the hidden things of men, and declare the mysteries of God.” He frames it as the ability to speak foreign languages miraculously, aligning with the Pentecost event in Acts 2, and emphasizes its role in revealing truths and benefiting the community.

For Irenaeus, the gift was still being practiced in his day, it was the ability to speak real languages, and its purpose was for prophesy and mission.

Tertullian (c. 155–220 AD)

A North African theologian and apologist, Tertullian refers to tongues in Against Marcion (Book 5, Chapter 8), where he discusses spiritual gifts in the context of Montanism (a prophetic movement he later joined). “Let him who claims to have received gifts… produce a psalm, a vision, a prayer—provided it be with interpretation.” He implies tongues as intelligible speech, often requiring interpretation, and sees it as evidence of the Holy Spirit’s work similar to the apostles’. He notes encounters with the gift of interpretation in his day but doesn’t describe it as ecstatic babbling; instead, it’s tied to rational, prophetic expression.

For Tertullian, the gift was still being practiced in his day, it required interpretation, and its purpose was for the edification of the Church.

Origen (c. 185–253 AD)

The Alexandrian scholar comments on tongues in his Commentary on 1 Corinthians and other works, such as De Principiis. He views it as the miraculous knowledge of foreign languages without prior study, emphasizing that the speaker might not understand their own words unless interpreted (echoing 1 Corinthians 14:13). Origen argues the gift was temporary, part of the “signs” of the apostolic age, and by his time, it was no longer commonly exercised.

“The signs of the Holy Spirit were manifest at the beginning… but traces of them are found in only a few.” (Against Celsus 7.8)

For Origen, the gift was real and apostolic, already becoming uncommon by the mid-3rd century, and was seen mainly as a foundational sign for the church’s early mission.

John Chrysostom (c. 347–407 AD)

The Archbishop of Constantinople, known for his homilies, discusses tongues extensively in his Homilies on First Corinthians (e.g., Homily 35). He interprets it as speaking in actual languages like Persian, Roman, or Indian, directly linking it to Pentecost. Chrysostom stresses that it was a “sign” for unbelievers (per 1 Corinthians 14:22) and notes its cessation: by the late 4th century, it had largely disappeared from the church, as the need for such miracles had passed with the spread of Christianity.

“This whole place is very obscure; but the obscurity is produced by our ignorance of the facts referred to and by their cessation, being such as then used to occur but now no longer take place.” (Homilies on 1 Corinthians 29)

For John Chrysostom, the gift was something real from an earlier era, but no longer practiced in his day.

Augustine of Hippo (c. 354–430 AD)

In works like The Letters of Petilian and his sermons, Augustine acknowledges tongues as a historical gift from the early church, where converts sometimes spoke in new languages upon baptism. However, he explicitly states that by his era, the gift had ceased: “In the earliest times, the Holy Ghost fell upon them that believed: and they spoke with tongues… These were signs adapted to the time. For there behooved to be that betokening of the Holy Spirit… That thing was done for a betokening, and it passed away.” He sees it as fulfilled in the church’s global unity rather than ongoing miracles.

For Augustine, the gift was a sign for the church’s beginning, meant to show the universality of the gospel, and was no longer needed once the Church was established.

Other Notable Mentions

Hippolytus (c. 170–235 AD): In Apostolic Tradition, he equates tongues with the apostles’ experience at Pentecost, viewing it as foreign languages.
Gregory of Nazianzus (c. 329–390 AD): In his Oration on Pentecost, he describes it as a reversal of Babel, enabling communication in diverse human tongues.
Cyril of Jerusalem (c. 313–386 AD): In Catechetical Lectures, he marvels at the apostles learning multiple languages instantly through the Spirit.

The Church Fathers seemed to be unified in their understanding of the gift of tongues:

No father describes tongues as:

a private prayer language
a necessary sign of Spirit baptism
a normative experience for all believers

No early source connects tongues with:

altered states of consciousness
repetitive ecstatic syllables
individual spiritual status

Tongues were real languages, not private ecstasy.

They belonged especially to the apostolic age, when the gospel was breaking into new linguistic worlds.

They declined naturally as the church became established.

They were signs of God’s power, not badges of spiritual rank.

They were always meant to serve the church, not the ego of the speaker.

In summary, the Church Fathers saw the gift of tongues as a practical miracle for spreading the gospel across linguistic barriers, not as private prayer languages or gibberish. References become scarcer after the 3rd century, with later writers like Chrysostom and Augustine indicating its decline, attributing this to the church’s maturation. This contrasts with some modern interpretations, but the patristic evidence emphasizes its historical and evangelistic role.

Jesus is Not Coming Down From the Sky

There is No Santa

Imagine a young boy who believes in Santa Claus. He believes that the presents he finds under the tree each Christmas morning were placed there by a magical man who came down the chimney, and who afterward hopped on his sleigh pulled by flying reindeer.

But, one Christmas Eve, the boy decides he wants to see Santa for real and so he sneaks out of his room late at night hoping to catch Santa in action. What he does see, however, is his own parents carefully laying out presents, one by one, around the base of the tree. And so, he knows the truth. It is in fact his own parents who are delivering the goods.

Now, with this knowledge, would it be proper for the boy to then believe that it is his own parents who slid down the chimney? And it his own parents who will fly off into the night on the sleigh? No, of course not. The boy must disregard the entire Santa narrative. There’s no one coming down the chimney. It’s all his parents buying the presents from the store, wrapping them out of sight, and placing them under the tree. Once the boy discovers the truth about one thing, he must apply that truth to everything else.

First Century Cosmology

First century Christians did not have telescopes. They believed the realm above them was a series of layers transcending the dome of the sky. They believed that angels and God literally resided in and above the layers containing the sun, moon, and stars. God’s throne room was a literal place up in what we would call “outer space.” When Jesus ascended up to the Father, to sit at His right hand, Jesus literally went up to sit on a literal throne in a literal throne room.

Since Jesus was up in outer space, of course when He returns, he will return from outer space. Where else would He come from?

21st Century Cosmology

Today we have telescopes. We know that we live in one galaxy among billions, and that each galaxy contains billions, if not trillions, of stars. The universe is so vast, it is beyond comprehension. In fact, the universe is likely infinite. We know this now.

We know that there is no Santa. Therefore, is it proper for us to continue to believe that one day the world will see Jesus descending down to the earth through the layers of the heavens as they believed He would in the 1st century? Should we combine their cosmology with our own? No, of course not. Ask any Christian today where heaven is, and unless he’s a flat-earther, he will likely say that heaven is located in the spiritual realm, someplace beyond the material realm that we do not have access to.

New Testament Eschatological Language

New Testament (NT) eschatology is primarily Israel’s eschatology. The Church’s eschatology builds upon it, but then transcends it. The cosmos coming under judgement for the NT authors was the Israelite cosmos. The end was near, at hand, at the door, soon, and about to happen. Every NT author believed he was living in the last days. And he was, to the degree that the old order of things was coming to an end. The apocalyptic language of the NT reflects this.

Israel’s eschatology is not the Church’s eschatology. The Church’s eschatology is this: Just as a dragnet draws all the fish into the boat, so is all creation being drawn to the Father by the redemptive work of Christ. We don’t know when this work will be complete, and we don’t know what it will finally look like. For now it is beyond our comprehension, beyond our reach.

It’s okay to be somewhat agnostic when it comes to eschatology. Embrace the mystery. Whatever you do, don’t go on believing that your dad has a pack of flying reindeer hidden away in a barn somewhere.

We Are Not Israel

Israel is gone. Our faith is not “Judeo/Christian.” We are just Christian. Yes, Jesus was the Messiah Israel was waiting for, but He was not the Messiah they were expecting. Jesus was not the blood soaked Davidic warrior coming to destroy Rome and establish a powerful Israelite theocracy the 1st century Jews were hoping for. This is why He was rejected.

Jesus subverted all Messianic expectations. His kingdom is not of this world. He came to conquer a higher enemy. He came to do the will of the Father, not Israel. The Father’s will is to redeem His creation. This is what Christianity is: The redemption of creation through Christ.

For Christians, Israel has become allegory. The Old Testament scriptures are transformed to types and shadows. It’s not our literal history. It’s our mythology.

Most Christians live like this even if not fully aware of it. They may say the stories are literal history, but they always apply the stories allegorically to their own life’s journey. It doesn’t matter if the stories are literal history or not; anything to do with Israel we allegorize.

Jesus is not coming down from the sky. Israelite cosmology is not true. That’s okay, because we are Christians. We know more. We’ve seen more. We know what is mythology and what is reality. We know the truth, and what we know is true; we must apply it to everything else.

The Original Idea of Christianity

According to Israel’s prophets, the coming of the Messiah was directly connected to Yahweh’s promise to restore exiled Israel.

Christianity then is based on the idea that Jesus is the Messiah, and that, for some reason, the promise to restore Israel is extended to the nations.

Deification from Nothing

And only by this primordial assent does humanity in its eternal “multi-hypostatic” reality— as the eternal Adam of the first creation— freely receive its being from its creator: and this even though that assent becomes, on the threshold between the heavenly Aeon and time, a recapitulation of the Fall, an individuating acceptance of entry into the world under the burden of sin, such that every soul is answerable for and somehow always remembers that original transgression. In that moment, the spiritual creature concurs in its own creation, and God hands the creature over to its own free self-determination. Here, naturally, the language of past and future can devolve all too easily into a mythology of individual guilt historically “prior” to any person’s actual life; but, of course, there was no fall “back then” in historical time, either for the race or for the individual. Rather, the Fall “happened” only as belonging to the temporal unfolding of that eternal assent. It “happened”— or, rather, is happening— only as the lingering resistance of nothingness to that final joyous confession, the diminishing residue of the creature’s emergence ex nihilo. For no creature can exist as spirit in God except under the condition of having arisen from nothingness in order to grow into his or her last end. That passage from nothingness into the infinite, which is always a free intentionality toward a final cause, is the very structure of created spiritual beings. They could not be spirit otherwise.
David Bentley Hart, You Are Gods (Kindle Locations 2269-2281). University of Notre Dame Press. Kindle Edition.

The above quote is dense. I had ChatGPT break it down for me…

1. Humanity’s “primordial assent”

All of humanity, seen as one great reality (called here the “eternal Adam”), says “yes” to God in a timeless, original way — that’s what allows us to receive our existence.
This assent is not something we’re forced into; it’s freely given.

2. Entry into the world as a re-enactment of the Fall

When each soul crosses from God’s eternal realm into time, that assent gets played out again.
This entry into earthly life also means accepting a world where sin and brokenness exist — a “burden” every soul bears.
Somehow, each person participates in and “remembers” the original turning away from God (the Fall), even though it’s not a literal memory of a past historical event.

3. Individual freedom at creation

In this moment of entering existence, the soul agrees to be created and is entrusted by God to its own freedom.
God hands each creature over to its own self-determination — we’re not puppets; we live by our own will.

4. The caution against misreading the Fall

It’s easy to turn this idea into a story of “individual guilt” for something that happened before we were born.
But the author says that’s a misunderstanding — the Fall wasn’t a single event in history, for either humanity as a whole or for each person individually.

5. The Fall as an ongoing reality

The Fall “happens” as part of the unfolding of that original assent in time.
It’s the ongoing resistance of nothingness — the fact that we came from nothing — to fully and joyfully uniting with God.
This resistance gradually diminishes as we grow toward God.

6. Why this resistance exists

A creature can only exist as a spiritual being in God if it has come from nothingness.
That means we must grow from nothingness toward our ultimate purpose — union with God — in a free, intentional way.
That journey from nothing to infinite life in God is the very structure of what it means to be a spiritual creature.

In short:
We each freely agree to exist, but entering the world means stepping into a condition where sin already burdens us — not as guilt for a past event, but as part of our starting point in nothingness. The Fall is not “back then,” but is the ongoing process of wrestling with the pull of nothingness as we freely move toward God, which is exactly what it means to be a spiritual being.

***

The Climb from the Hollow

In the beginning, there was no beginning.
Ermias opened his eyes in a vast, dim hollow. No sun, no stars; only a faint glow far above, like the hint of a dawn. He did not remember falling here; he simply found himself at the bottom, his feet in the dust.

He stood. Something inside him whispered: Up there is your home.
Not a command, but an invitation.

The climb was hard. The walls were steep in some places, treacherous in others, and the dust clung to him, weighing him down. It whispered, You come from me. Stay. It pulled at his ankles, reminding him how easy it would be to stop.

Ermias kept climbing.
Not because he was told to, not because he feared punishment, but because the faint light above called to him. The higher he climbed, the stronger the light, and the lighter his steps.

Still, the dust never let go. Even when he could see the edge of the hollow, its pull was there, a quiet ache in his legs and longing in his chest. It was part of him, just as much as the light.

He understood:
He had not been pushed into the hollow long ago. He had always been here, and his life was the climb — the slow, free, deliberate rising from the nothingness of the dust toward the fullness of the light.

***

If we view the fall in this way, how does the life of Jesus guide us from nothingness to God?

Complete Surrender to God’s Purpose and Freedom from Nothingness:
- Jesus embodies complete surrender to God’s purpose, demonstrating the free intentionality required to move from nothingness toward divine union. His prayer in Gethsemane, “Not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42), illustrates this active, free choice to embrace his divine end.
- Unlike every other human being, Jesus’ freedom was never bent inward toward self-assertion. Every choice He made aligned perfectly with the will of the Father, overcoming the pull of nothingness.
Incarnation as the Bridge from Nothingness to Infinity:
- The doctrine of the Incarnation (God becoming human in Jesus – John 1:14) illustrates the journey from nothingness to divine fullness. As fully human, Jesus shares in the creaturely condition of originating ex nihilo, yet as fully divine, he embodies the infinite end toward which all creatures are called.
- Jesus entered the same condition we inhabit—born into the finitude and vulnerability of human life, subject to temptation, pain, and mortality. By living our condition without turning inward, He shows that the journey from nothingness to God can be completed within human limits.
Overcoming Temptation as Resistance to Nothingness:
- The temptation of Jesus in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1-11, Luke 4:1-13) symbolizes the rejection of the “residue of nothingness.” Satan’s temptations—material gain, power, and self-preservation—represent ways the creature might cling to autonomy or finite desires, resisting divine intentionality. Jesus’ refusal of these temptations demonstrates how to prioritize God’s will over the allure of nothingness.
- His temptations in the wilderness are the archetypal moment where the pull of “nothingness” tries to assert itself—through comfort, power, and self-display. Jesus answers each one with trust in the Father, refusing the shortcuts that would anchor Him in self-will.
Teachings as a Guide for Intentionality:
- Jesus’ teachings in the Gospels, such as the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7), outline a way of life that orients the soul toward God. His emphasis on love, humility, forgiveness, and trust in God offers a roadmap for aligning one’s intentions with divine purpose.
- Jesus describes His very sustenance as obedience to God’s purpose—“My food is to do the will of Him who sent me, and to finish His work” (John 4:34), showcasing the opposite of clinging to self-sufficiency.
Crucifixion as the Ultimate Surrender:
- Jesus’ death on the cross (Mark 15:33-39, John 19:30) represents the ultimate act of self-emptying (kenosis), where he freely embraces the finitude and suffering inherent in creaturely existence. By accepting death, Jesus confronts the nothingness at the heart of human mortality and transforms it through his trust in God’s redemptive power.
- On the cross, Jesus fully experiences the consequence of our condition: mortality, weakness, and even the feeling of God’s absence. But instead of yielding to despair, He entrusts Himself entirely into the Father’s hands, reversing the “Fall” by freely surrendering to Him in suffering.
Resurrection as the Fulfillment of Divine End:
- The resurrection (Matthew 28:1-10, John 20:1-18) is the definitive triumph over nothingness, demonstrating that the journey from ex nihilo to God culminates in eternal life. Jesus’ risen life shows that the creature’s free assent to God’s purpose leads to transformation beyond the limits of finitude.
- The resurrection is not just a miracle to prove divinity—it’s the completion of the passage from nothingness into the infinite. In Him, human life is lifted fully into God, body and soul, showing the destiny that awaits every spirit that freely assents.
Example for Practical Imitation:
- Jesus’ life provides concrete practices for moving toward God: prayer (e.g., the Lord’s Prayer, Matthew 6:9-13), service to others (John 13:1-17), and sacrificial love (John 15:13). These actions reflect a life oriented toward divine intentionality, showing how everyday choices can resist nothingness and grow toward God.
- Jesus’ whole life shows what it looks like when created spirit fully grows into its “last end”—unbroken union with God, serving as the pattern and pioneer of what it means for created spirit to complete the climb from the Hollow to the Summit.